So he had come to find me knowing I could shift even if he hadn’t grasped the parameters of my abilities.

“That explains the white-glove service.” Feeding me, driving me around and hauling my luggage up to my room. “You wanted to keep an eye on me until you figured out what Vause saw in me.” I felt sick. Nauseous. I wanted to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and stay there for a month. “Then you saw Lori, and the cogs started turning.”

“The killer is targeting young fae girls,” he pressed. “Tell me it’s a coincidence you can shift into a child’s form. Not an illusion, an actual child. Tell me Vause doesn’t know exactly how to play on your guilt over Lori to coerce you into doing what I’m asking you to do of your own free will.”

I got to my feet and smoothed the wrinkles from my pants.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“You won’t leave my room, so I’ll go.” I walked to the door and snagged my purse too fast for him to dump the contents off his lap and come after me. “Make sure you lock up when you’re done.”

Once out in the hall, I made the short trip to Harlow’s room. The “Do Not Disturb” sign still hung from the lever. So much for hiding out with her. There went my buffer. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number but got punted straight to voicemail.

The late hour and the warg occupying my room left me with few options. Figuring Harlow must still be on the scene in Falco, I rode the elevator down to the lobby and called a cab. Cellphones and water didn’t mix, so it made sense she wouldn’t keep hers on her. I’d head out there, give myself time to cool off, and she could give me a ride back to the hotel. I would treat her at one of those twenty-four-hour restaurants that did brisk business preying on interstate traffic with their glossy signs and promises of bottomless mugs of coffee. Right now that kind of anonymity hit the spot.

Chapter 9

Brushy Creek Lake resembled all the other lake turned crime scenes I had visited since Charybdis began his murder spree. He definitely had a preference for the remote and the tick-infested.

“You sure you don’t want me to hang around?” The cabbie leaned out his window, scratching his cheek as he took in the desolate location. A full moon hung overhead, muted by the thick beams of his headlights. “I got a daughter your age. I wouldn’t leave her out here’s all I’m sayin’.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” I pointed to the far end of the weedy parking lot where a black van straddled crumbling white lines. “That’s my ride home. I’m meeting a friend here.”